


An Exercise in Stability

by fe3hisms



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Fluff, Gen, Modern AU, Parenthood, Slice of Life, especially now that he has his daughter with him!, maybe i'm projecting a little but i'm settling with this, not really focused on the source of his anxiety but rather how he handles it, single father sylvain, will not be mentioning his family... love and light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fe3hisms/pseuds/fe3hisms
Summary: Sylvain adjusts to life as a full-time single father, and starts to heal himself as well.Dimitri unintentionally forces his way into Sylvain and Toni's life.If Dimivain had cutscenes beyond Sylvain hiding Dimitri away from a girl.
Kudos: 7





	1. Relief?

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of angst here? Sylvain struggles with anxiety and consequently overthinks at times. 
> 
> Just wanted to have this up so that I could get to more fluff and dad!Sylvain writing, knowing that I had the beginning out of the way. It'll be more fluffy going forward!

Some mornings should be left blank on the calendar. The ones in which warm and comforting sunlight peeks through bedroom curtains, slowly awakening the inhabitants of the room. The ones where bodies rest quietly, heads sink cozily into pillows, and fingers grasp triumphantly for coverings. The ones when life has settled into place again. 

_Sylvain does not remember mornings like those. Sylvain does not have mornings like those. Mornings are for standing in his kitchen, scalding hot coffee in hand, laptop on the counter, and the ill-tempered emails from the previous night that must absolutely be answered now. For contributing to thick traffic in the twilight of the morning, listening to another chapter of The Anxiety Toolbox because he doesn't have time for a therapist but he doesn't feel okay at all. Sylvain's mornings involve pressing the sixth floor button without even looking, leaning against the elevator wall, and rehearsing the request for parental leave that, if he waits a day longer to ask, he'll put everything in jeopardy._

The body in Sylvain's bed stiffens with a start, as its owner's eyes spring open. He immediately blinks them closed against the sun rays pouring into his bedroom. He always keeps his curtains open, but he's never around to enjoy the natural light, at work from six to eight.

_Shit_.

His hand reaches automatically for the phone that should be charging on his nightstand. He never misses the alarm that goes off at 4 am, or the three subsequent ones at 4:10, 4:20, and 4:30 am. Those aren't defenses against half-asleep snoozes, but to keep his routine on track. 10 minutes for a cold shower. 10 minutes to answer the least-irate of the hundred emails he had waiting for him. 10 minutes to get dressed and get out the door. He needs that half hour to set his day in motion. To keep his day intact.

So when his hand feels around fruitlessly for his phone, and he hears someone stir next to him, for a second it feels like the rope has slipped through his hands.

\---

_Sylvain can't help but cheat glances across the mahogany table in Dimitri's office. The vice mayor pays no mind to him, typing steadily on his computer. As he has been for the past hour. It's nearly the end of the day, and the only sign that he'll stop soon is the increasing amount of hair strands that have fallen in his face. The bags under his eyes seem darker today, Sylvain thinks. Part of him wants to swallow the nauseous question that is lying in wait on his tongue. He knows he's overreacting. Though he is Dimitri's aide, they are also friends. Or at least, that's what Dimitri considers them to be. He'll understand, he should understand. Sylvain is irritated; he wants to anticipate the response he'll receive. But he's never experienced something like this before._

_Besides the whir of the overhead fan, there is the offbeat tapping of Sylvain's foot against the carpeted floor. He spins a pen on his finger absentmindedly._

_Dimitri, I need time off. It's my daughter. They're giving me full custody, and I want her to get used to living with me. I don't know how long I need..._

_Dimitri doesn't even know Sylvain_ has _a daughter._

_The pen pops off Sylvain's finger, striking the shell of his boss's laptop. He sits up stiffly, making eye contact with Dimitri, who is fishing behind his computer for the object at fault._

_"You know, you could just tell me it's time to shut things down for the night." Dimitri doesn't chasten the man, a warm tone in his voice. Sylvain doesn't hear it._

_"Sorry, I was--" Sylvain thinks it wise to not admit he's distracted, even if that's the case. The city is putting on a charity drive in the next week, and the entire office has been busier in preparation. Sylvain tries not to think about the work he'll be leaving behind._

_"No need. You were here before me, I'll let you go. Don't worry about me, I plan to get out of this hellhole before too long."_

_Sylvain nods in response, his lips pursed. Dimitri pushes his papers together neatly. Oblivious to Sylvain watching him with flitting eyes, he searches his messenger bag for the key to his desk. He really needs to get a keychain._

_"Dimitri."_

_"You're still here, Sylvain?"_

_Silence. A breath. Sylvain is angry with himself in that moment. Why is this so difficult? Why is he making this so difficult?_

_"I have a daughter."_

_\--_

He has a daughter. Her name is Toni.

The tension in his muscles begins to ease. His heart stops knocking in his chest, its frenzied beats lessening. _I've_ _got to get this under control._

Turning onto his left side, he lets his eyes lift open again. Frizzy ringlets nestle under his nose, and a faint whiff of lavender greets him. He breathes in, letting the scent abate his myriad thoughts. He stays there for a minute, fist under his head and hand caressing his daughter's head as she continues to sleep. For once, Sylvain is not forced to stand still: he chooses to.

It was late when Sylvain pulled into the driveway of his home. The trial had concluded several hours away from his residence, and it had been a four day affair. Not knowing how it would turn out kept him in a state of apprehension. There was little he could remember of the inside of the courtroom, or even the proceedings themselves. Day in and day out, once he walked through the doors of the courthouse, his senses dulled. Sylvain was thankful for his lawyer, who managed to recognize whenever Sylvain needed a break to recollect himself (or to try). 

It was all he could do to stay focused on why he was here. Why he was putting himself through days of sitting across from a family that hated him, and wanted nothing to do with him. Why, immediately after leaving the office that night, he had purchased a toddler bed for the spare bedroom. All Sylvain knew, and all he held onto, was that his daughter would soon be in his care. She would be his.

So now, he can finally unwind from the stress of the past two weeks. He does remember that he left his phone in the living room for once, no longer needing it attached to his palm in case his lawyer called. He smiles to himself, comforted by the thought of being on his own time again. 

Sylvain's daughter shifts under his hand, his attention returning back to her. She bunches her legs up under herself, yawning widely but silently. Her eyes are still closed, but Sylvain knows she won't stay like this for long. He pushes his hands into the bed, propping himself against the headboard. Gently, he pulls his daughter into his arms, his chin resting on her head. She's warm against his chest.

If Sylvain is truthful with himself, he still isn't sure what to think. His eyes trail around the room, trying to make sense of the situation he's in.

_For the first hour of the drive back, she had cried. Some of it was pure wailing, some of it choking sobs, still some of it sniveling. A couple of times, he pulled over to the side of the highway, trying to keep himself composed as her cries threatened to snap him in two, and to attempt to console her. Sylvain was well aware of it being only their third time together without the presence of her maternal grandfather. And this time, it would be permanent._

_Sylvain had loathed every second spent around that man, who was tireless in his effort to keep Sylvain's daughter away from him. Long ago, he had given up explaining himself and his actions to her grandfather. What mattered now was that he was here, and that he knew he could give his daughter the safety and love she deserved._

Both his and Toni's suitcases lay open near the closet, his bright red, and hers a muted blue. He had been fumbling around last night for her pajamas, with only the light from the bathroom illuminating the contents from behind him. He had laid his daughter on his bed as softly as he could, holding his breath when she quivered as he pulled off her shoes, her polka dot socked feet kicking unconsciously.

Sylvain had decided not to put her to sleep in her own bed, knowing there would be a greater chance of her waking up, and not being able to soothe herself in a strange room. He would rather his daughter be near him, at least for the first couple of nights. Besides, Sylvain had yet to purchase a baby monitor.

He laughs at himself in scorn. Maybe once he got used to the whole being a father thing, he wouldn't need a baby monitor for his toddler daughter. After all, she was two now. Surely she could sleep in her own bed without too much issue. The monitor is for his own sanity, he admits. He's giving up a lot of control by attempting to raise this little person. At least he can try to hold onto to some semblance of command.

Sylvain's daughter rubs her face into his chest, scrunching up her nose as she turns toward the open curtains, sunlight dancing over her eyelids. She lets out a cry, pushing off of him suddenly. For an instant, Sylvain wonders if she's on the verge of bawling. Less ceremoniously however, a scowl forms on her round face, as she tries to figure out where she is.

"Good morning, baby." Sylvain grabs her small hands into his own, kissing her forehead lightly.

She immediately tears out of his grasp, swiping away his affection with indignation, her bottom lip setting fiercely into a sulk. Sylvain takes the opportunity to match her expression with his own pout, feigning a few tears and hiding his face away behind crossed arms. He parts them just a bit to allow him to see her face.

Toni grabs at his arms, trying to discern whether her father is truly mourning her rejection. Sylvain resists the tiniest bit, increasing the volume of his faux cries.

"No cry!" His daughter gets onto her knees, bracing herself.

Letting her pull his arms away, Sylvain's face slowly breaks into a grin. She defies his smile at first, but Sylvain poking her belly gets her shrieking.

"You're grumpy today, huh?"

"I'm not!" This cry of annoyance sounds more like 'I not', to Sylvain.

He laughs, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. Sylvain reaches back to scoop her into his grasp, then brings her to the window that overlooks the garden. Or, what will eventually be the garden. Sylvain rarely goes out back, considering his home has been strictly for meals and sleeping for the past two years. But now that he'll be home with Toni, he wonders if he should do something about that. It would be nice to have an area for her to play in. Maybe they could even grow some things out there. _Well, let's just focus on weeding first._ Sylvain wasn't sure what color his thumb was, but green was surely not it.

They're both silent for a minute. His daughter puts her hand to the window, surely leaving a faint handprint behind. She watches a woodpecker bore into a tree, its beak hammering the bark without ceasing. Sylvain doesn't mind the smudges on the window. He's content to observe Toni, her large eyes soaking in the morning activity.

Until she suddenly jerks forward, and thumps her head against the glass pane. _On purpose. And really hard._

"Yikes! Toni, why did you do that?" Sylvain asks this in futility, his daughter's yell quickly amplifying.

_What the fuck? Was she copying the woodpecker?_

Sylvain hushes her, holding a hand over her forehead. He shakes his head in bewilderment, crossing his bedroom to open the door. Toni's cries echo through the hallway, as Sylvain continues to spout seemingly hollow words of consolation, his daughter too noisy to hear him.

It's Toni's first day home with him, and she already needs a bag of ice. Sylvain ponders whether the judge made the best decision after all.


	2. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mercedes makes an appearance!
> 
> I didn't intend for him to text her, but he did.

Butter pops and sizzles in a stainless steel skillet as Sylvain gives the batter one last whisk. The sweet smell of cinnamon wafts through his sleek kitchen. Over the stove, a fan turns quietly to blow away the burning butter. Sylvain can already feel his eyes getting irritated from the slight smoke, but he might as well go through with this. He doesn't remember the last time he made a bowl of cereal for himself, let alone breakfast for a little kid. 

The little kid in question is buckled into her high chair a few feet away from Sylvain. There's still a tiny knot on her forehead from the window, but she's in better spirits. Sylvain can tell, because her eyes are sparkling at him as he pours two small pancakes into the pan. She scrunches up her nose, chewing the last of her bite size grape slices that Sylvain hopes will tide her over until he manages to produce a decently cooked pancake (this is his third attempt).

Besides Toni's failed pursuit of becoming a woodpecker, the morning has gone smoothly enough so far. 

\--

He searched his cabinets for a small ziploc bag, hoping a makeshift ice pack would soothe his daughter's pain. By now, her wails had dwindled to blubbering. Sylvain murmured phrases of comfort to her as he opened the freezer. A giant mass of frozen water sat under his ice maker. _How long has it been since I've been in here?_ He tossed it into the sink to let it melt under some warm water, then reached for a paper towel to wrap the ziploc bag in. Sylvain tilted his head to look into Toni's eyes, holding up the ice.

"Can you hold this for Daddy?" He hoped this further distracted her from the puffy bump that had formed squarely in the middle of her forehead. 

She acquiesced, giving a final pitiful sniffle as her chubby fingers grasped the plastic.

"Cold."

"Mmhm, it's a little cool. It'll make you feel better."

Sylvain grabbed the tv remote from the counter, then settled down onto the couch gently. He situated Toni into the crook of his right arm, then held out his hand for the ice bag.

"Now, this is going to be cold," he warned. Sylvain checked to ensure the paper towel wasn't soaked through already, before he pressed the bag against his daughter's head slowly. Toni's eyebrows knit together as she winced, her hands popping up to grab the hastily-made pack away from him.

"Cold!"

Chuckling softly, Sylvain pulled his hand back. "Toni, you need--"

She covered her hair with her hands, thinking this was good enough defense against Sylvain's nursing. 

Recognizing that she was ready to put up a fight, Sylvain leaned forward to rest the bag on the coffee table. He'd try again after he found a show to entertain her. It was somewhat of a godsend that Sylvain hadn't canceled his cable yet, though it had been several months since he had a chance to watch anything. And by anything, that meant wedding shows or art documentaries. _Hmm, maybe I should get some paint, or Play-Dough, for Toni._

They would have to do that outside. 

Sylvain flipped through the channel guide, unsure of what he was looking for. Cartoons were low on his list of things to watch. He pressed a button for voice recognition, asking for kid shows. The screen loaded briefly, before pulling up an expansive library. _Why was I paying for this?_

"Elmo!"

Toni's shrieking made Sylvain's ears ring. She scrambled out of his lap, running up to the tv (or as close as possible, Sylvain has it mounted on the wall). Her excited stamping brought a smile to Sylvain's face. She scampered back to him, asking to go "up". He lifted her with his right arm, selecting an episode indiscriminately. _So, she likes Sesame Street._

He doesn't want to make a habit of sitting in front of the tv whenever Toni is upset, especially with the time he has. But for now, this will do. She was quiet for a few minutes, watching 'Elmo'. She had already called out his name four times, but Sylvain had yet to see the little red monster appear on screen. _She must call every puppet on the show the same thing, he discerns._

Toni squirmed a little while later, her hands reaching out for the ice bag that still sat on the coffee table. Sylvain was pleased to oblige, helping his daughter hold the ice to her forehead. She pushed his fingers off the bag, wanting to hold it herself. Sylvain knows that streak of independence comes from him, and it's amusing to see.

Nevertheless, it freed a hand up for him to grab his phone from the arm of the sofa. He deleted the mail app once Dimitri accepted his request of leave, so he was not greeted with emails from constituents. Instead, he saw a couple of texts. One was from 8:03 am. Dimitri.

> Dimitri B. : Hope the little one is well. :)

Sylvain stared vacantly at the phone screen. Dimitri doesn't text him. He doesn't text Dimitri. In fact, them having each other's numbers is strictly a formality; they had always corresponded through email, or face to face. Sylvain prefers that. Work is work, Dimitri is part of work. 

He didn't pop open the notification. Thinking about his job puts a flaming hot stone in his gut. Sylvain doesn't have any problems with his role, but he's never been fully comfortable in it. That's not something to think about now, though.

Shoving those thoughts to what he hopes is a permanent void, he pressed one of the two messages above that of Dimitri's. 

> > (10:20 am) oh mercie me: how's Toni? how are you, Sylvain? thinking of you two today. 
> 
> (10:20 am) oh mercie me: love you <3 :)))

Sylvain shook his head in slight embarrassment upon reading her words, but he felt content. He didn't deserve his friend Mercedes, though knowing she was thinking of them did him in just a tad.

He 'liked' the two texts. He hadn't properly talked to anyone but his lawyer and the case judge in the past three days. Beyond Mercedes, only Dimitri knows about Toni, and that's just recently. It's not like Sylvain bothers to contact anyone for non-work purposes. His contacts are full of nameless numbers, only a little saved note for each one to remind him of whom it belongs to. 

_It's not too lonely._

> (11:43 am) we're doing fine so far. just a bump on her head from a window, but she's fine.

Sylvain selected the camera icon, bringing up the video option. He sent Mercedes the few pictures of Toni from when she was an infant, but those came to a stop once her grandfather entered the picture. Now though, he can start filling an album of videos and photos of her. Probably more than one.

He lifted his arm from around his daughter, twisting his torso that he could film her watching Sesame Street. Toni paid him no mind, thoroughly engrossed in a song about the alphabet. The ice bag slumped on Sylvain's thigh, slowly melting after Toni got tired of holding it (only thirty seconds in). 

The knot on her head was shrinking, to Sylvain's relief. Imagine being enough of a bonehead for his daughter to get hurt on her first day home. He knows there are tribulations that come with being a parent, let alone a single father, but he doesn't want to discover them in the first 24 hours.

Satisfied with the video he captured, Sylvain sent it off to Mercedes. A read receipt appeared shortly after. _Someone's glued to her phone this morning._

Her contact photo, him and her at Sylvain's college graduation, flashed up on his phone. He hadn't been able to bring himself to change it, though it had been nearly seven years since that day. Sylvain liked this memory.

He answered the call.

"Is she okay? Oh my, she's absolutely adorable! Sylvain, she's so big! How old is she now, two? Look at her red hair, you basically spit her out!"

Laughing, Sylvain held his phone away from his ear. He never tired of hearing Mercedes's cheery voice over the phone. She was the closest person to family that he and Toni had. He ruffled her curls, holding the microphone up to his mouth.

"I admit, she's kind of my mini-me. Only just kind of, though. How's life treating you, Mercie?" 

"Same old, same old. Nothing to report. I'm more interested in you two! Why don't you come up to the library today? There's a Read With Me event for kids. I haven't seen you in a while."

_Hmm. Admittedly, Sylvain had been thinking of staying at home. It was easier to process all of this when he was safely within his four walls. He didn't want to disappoint her, but even thinking back on how he had woken up this morning, Sylvain thought it best to lay low. Especially with the expectation for him to attend an event. He had told Mercedes a lot of things, but not how his nerves had been getting the best of him lately. He still wouldn't. At least for today._

"Was planning on just spending today at home, honestly." He hoped that rejection didn't sound too brusque, sputtering out a half-explanation. "I want Toni to get used to this place, but we'll come out there soon, I promise."

Sylvain swore he heard a note of disappointment in Mercedes' voice, but her words were bright.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Sylvain! I'll be ready for you two at any time. I hope you enjoy your day." 

This time, he definitely sensed the grin on the other end of the line. A quiet sigh of relief. She wasn't bothered with him declining.

"We will! Before you go, do you know any good pancake recipes? I mean, I have some cereal and fruit on hand, but I want to make Toni something good for breakfast today."

Mercedes practically squealed in response. Sylvain knew the way into her good graces was food.

"Are you finally getting into cooking, Sylvain? I've prayed this day would come!"

Sylvain frowned, an incredulous tilt to his lips. "I hope you're joking, Mercie."

"Only half. I'm sending you a recipe right now. Oh, maybe this one..."

"I'll check out whatever you send me, just don't go overboard."

Mercedes hummed in response, the call clicking off a second later. Sylvain went back into his messages, watching as recipe after recipe appeared in the chat. He should've clarified what overboard meant.

\--

Now he hunches over his kitchen island, resting his cheek on his right fist. The pancakes weren't half bad for someone as gravely untalented in the kitchen as Sylvain. His plate sits empty in front of him. Toni's pajama shirt is piled up to his left, being narrowly spared from her sticky fingers thanks to Sylvain's quick thinking. He smoothes some of her frizzy edges, kissing her temple sweetly. Toni picks up one of the pancake pieces he cut for her, trying to shove it in his mouth.

"I already had mine, baby," he purses his lips against her hand. 

"Eat, eat!"

Sylvain snorts, reluctantly opening his mouth. Toni seems satisfied, giving him a pancake filled smile. He pretends that the piece she gave him wasn't mushy with syrup (Sylvain hates syrup), making a thumbs up. She returns to her breakfast, and Sylvain puts his plate in the sink.

This is the first of many mornings that are left blank on Sylvain's calendar. One in which warm and happy giggles fill his house, making his heart swell. One where he can be whole, even if only for this moment. One when he maybe feels calm for once, or can at least hide the unsteady beating of his heart.

There isn't much in Sylvain's life that didn't come from his own resourcefulness and actions. But as he looks at Toni, busily munching on a pancake, watching him happily, he thinks that finally, he can truly feel someone was smiling upon him.

**Author's Note:**

> Dimitri being vice mayor means absolutely nothing, by the way. I just needed a non-rigid position that allows him some free time and gives Sylvain a job (working with him). 
> 
> Rethinking this...assume we're working off B+ Dimivain (it does not exist...).


End file.
